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You’re my home

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To say that Sherlock was acting crazy, is an understatement. The man was running around the crime scene, a triple murder, spitting out deductions about members of the yard left and right, with more malice than usual. Donovan and Anderson were getting the worst of it, Lestrade was trying to calm Sherlock down to no avail."For gods sake Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted "Stop being such a bloody arse and tell us how these people were killed!". Sherlock turned away from outing an officer's affair with his wife's sister and gave Lestrade a murderous glare, he stalks over to the bodies, three men, all identical, had short brown hair and were fairly tall, one was skinnier than the others and another was much more athletically built. They had each been shot in their foreheads and laid down side by side. Some teenagers had found them in the alley and called the police.

Sherlock barely gave them a glance before rattling off what happened, "Their sister killed them, she is a drug addict and her brothers went to find her after she hadn't returned for quite some time, when they found her she was quite high and forgot that she had three brothers and so she panicked when she saw three identical men coming towards her. Their father was an army man and taught them all how to shoot which is why she had such great aim especially while drugged up, she stole the gun from her fathers house for protection while she went out and and scored drugs, she also has OCD so while high she dragged them all to line up and then ran. You will find her coming off her latest high in the crack house two blocks down in an abandoned house, she will look quite similar to her brothers and she will no doubt start to have some recollection of last night when you ask her".

Sherlock turned on his heel and stalked away towards the road with his Belstaff coat billowing dramatically behind him, "Oi! Sherlock wait!" the DI shouted after him, Sherlock surprisingly stopped and turned to face the Inspector, "What Lestrade, I just solved you a triple murder, shouldn't you be apprehending the murderer?" he asked while waving his hand as if swatting a fly. Lestrade looked at him curiously, "are you ok Sherlock? You seem worse than usual", the inspectors face changed to that of suspicion, "your're not using again are you Sherlock?" he asked, keeping his voice low so nobody else would hear. Sherlock looked at him, his face showed indifference but his eyes shone with frustration and then..... sadness? "No Gavin, i'm not using again, I just... I was supposed to talk to someone today who is an old friend but he wasn't able to and I only get to talk to him once a month" he said softly, Lestrade's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Sherlock I've told you it's Greg, but anyways, i'm sorry about that, but i'm glad to know your not using again" he finally managed to get out. Sherlock looked at him and gave a small, sharp nod before turning and disappearing into a black cab. 


Sherlock was waiting for John's call. After not being able to talk to John last month, Sherlock had been in a constant state of worry, he spent most of his time curled up in their (John and Sherlock's) bed, hugging one of John's favorite jumpers. Mrs. Hudson would come up and bring him food and tea and would try and get him to at least take a quick shower. Sherlock had always somewhat thought of Mrs. Hudson as a second mother, and after a relapse after John had first deployed, and calling Mrs. Hudson mum, Mrs. Hudson had taken it upon herself to take extra care of Sherlock, having always thought of him as the son she never had. During that month, Mrs.Hudson would sit beside Sherlock on the bed and would run her hands through his hair to calm him down when he was worrying to much and would send himself into a panic.

Even Mycroft was being less of an arrogant arse than usual, he used his "minor" position to make sure that if any John Watson-Holmes were reported injured, killed, or MIA, that he would be the first to know. Mycroft told this to Sherlock during one of his bigger panics, when he said this Sherlock surprised Mycroft. Sherlock had looked at him and and then looked back down at the floor, before softly saying "thanks Myc". When Sherlock used his old nickname from when they were kids, Mycroft vowed that if John didn't call next month, he would go down to Afghanistan himself, legwork be damned, if only to save his little brother from the suffering he is going through.

So, after a month of worrying, Sherlock sat on the couch staring at his phone on the table in front of him, waiting for it to ring. He waits two, seven, twelve, minutes past when he was supposed to get the call when finally his phone rings. He grabs it frantically and presses answer, "John!" he cries, the voice that comes through is like air to the suffocating detective. "Hello love", John says.

Sherlock didn't even stop himself as he started crying, "j-john... god you scared me! Where the hell have you been?!" he cried into the phone, "shhh, it's ok love, i'm so so sorry" John replied softly, John knew that Sherlock had probably panicked when he missed their monthly phone call, "Sher... i'm sorry for missing our call last month, there was.... an ambush... near camp, i'm fine but it cut us off from communication and i was busy for days with wounded soldiers coming in" he explained. Sherlock was hugging his knees close to his body while John explained, covering his mouth with his hand while trying to keep himself calm, he was glad that John wasn't hurt but he hated that an ambush happened so close to John, HIS John's, camp. "I-i'm ok, i'm much better know that i've heard from you, but I worry that an ambush could happen closer to you... Your not allowed to get hurt remember..." He trailed off, "I know love, don't worry though only two more months remember? I'll be back in time to scold you about all the experiments and body parts in the kitchen, ok?" John said, as if talking about dirty dishes and laundry instead of... well... body parts. Sherlock looked over at the kitchen and.. yep.. there was a bag of thumbs he was currently dissecting to experiment on the muscle tissue of the thumbs, and the various acids he is studying. He blushes and vows to clean it up tonight. "I remember John, I can survive two more months" a soft laugh escapes the detective's mouth before a sad smile appears back on his face, "So, what has happened recently? How are Anderson and Donovan 'getting on' " John says mischievously, Sherlock's face lights up with his 'John' smile, "well... it seems that Donovan should be a maid not a sergeant with the number of times she scrubs Anderson's floor!" John lets out a loud laugh as they settle in to a comfortable conversation. 


About three weeks later, Lestrade had a rather confusing murder. A women, shot dead in the heart. But, she was found in her bathtub, naked with the apartment door locked, no sign of forced entry, and no one was in her apartment.  Lestrade looked through the lobby cameras and saw her enter by herself, enter and leave the elevator alone, and stumble into her apartment alone. Nobody was seen entering the apartment until her roommate arrived, found her dead, and called the police. He sighed and grabbed his phone to call the consulting detective. 

Sherlock arrived ten minutes later, looking almost as bad as he did when Lestrade was helping him detox. Sherlock had dark circles under his eyes and his eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying a lot. His face was pale and the DI could tell that he wasn't eating enough. Still, Sherlock continued with his scathing deductions, though not as bad as last time the DI thought, as Sherlock continued his deductions. He strode over to the body and pulled out his magnifying glass, he leaned in to smell her moth and looked at her hands and eyes. Everyone could see that Sherlock was cheering up more as he continued to exam the woman. He jumped up and quickly walked over to Lestrade, "It was the roommate" he announced. Lestrade spluttered, "that's not bloody possible! The woman was dead long before the roommate even got here!".

Sherlock looked at him and smirked before rapidly spouting off his deductions, "The two roommates were at their separate jobs but had plans to meet at the pub down the street, the victim is a kindergarten teacher and was already tired upon arriving at the pub, she didn't want to stay long and so she headed home early while the roommate stayed there. Halfway home she started feeling unwell, thus her stumbling and drunk appearance on camera though she only had one drink. When she got home she felt too warm so she decided to cool down with a shower but collapsed before she could turn on the water. Her roommate had poisoned her drink with extract from the Belladonna plant, she is a botanist and grew it at her work. She was jealous because her roommate was dating her best friend who she had been in love with for the past two? no, three years. When she got home she panicked and thought that they would trace the belladonna back to her so she took her gun and silencer that her father gave to her for protection and shot her in the heart to make the bullet look like the cause of death." he finishes and spins around with his coat spinning dramatically with him, "If you go over right now you can check her hands and you will find traces of gun powder on her hand and belladonna traces under her fingernails".

Lestrade was about to ask Sherlock how he got all that when Donovan walked over with an annoyed look on her face. "Hey Freak", she said, crossing her arms, "Yes Donovan what is it?" Sherlock looked at her exasperated. Sherlock turned so he could look at her, "It seems you have a fan or something, he said he needs to see you right now, I told him to leave but he was very stubborn so he's now waiting by the police tape". Lestrade looked at Sally and back to Sherlock who looked fairly confused as well, "Just send him away Donovan, I have no time for little fans" he said looking slightly disgusted. Donovan just rolled her eyes, "I would but he won't go if I tell him the stubborn man, although I don't why a soldier would be a fan of yours... maybe he's come to take you for scientific testing" She smirked. Soldier? Soldier! Sherlock spun to look at her, she said soldier... but John is in Afghanistan... isn't he? He stood right in front of her, "Was he short? Did he have blond hair? Was he really a soldier?!" he demanded, Sally looked shocked for a second before answering, "yes, yes, and yes because he was wearing his fatigues...." Sherlock pushed her aside before running out of the building, Lestrade and Sally looked at each other before quickly following him outside.

 Sherlock ran out of the building as fast as he could and he scanned the crowd, where is he, where is he, where is h... he spotted him, his John, he was standing at the police tape looking around, his hair was military cut, Sherlock could see how tan he had gotten while away, he was still wearing his sand colored fatigues and he was leaning heavily on a cane... a cane?! what happened?! He looked back up to John's face and met his gaze, suddenly everything fell away and all he saw was his John. "John!" he screamed, not caring that every police officer turned to look at him, John quickly ducked under the police tape as Sherlock started running towards him. He just straightened up when he felt his Detectives tall body grab him into a back breaking hug, Sherlock started sobbing on John's shoulder while John ran his hand through the detectives hair, holding him as tight as he could, the cane already fallen to the ground. "Shhh, it's ok love i'm here now, i'm ok, and I won't be leaving again" John said softly while everyone, including a slack-jawed Donovan and Lestrade, continued to stare. Sherlock's sobbing turned into soft sniffling as he raised his head to look at his John, "Are you really not going back?" he whispered, John looked at him, his eyes starting to feel quite damp as well, "yes love, never going back, medically discharged and home for good" he said, then he grabbed the back of Sherlock's neck and pulled their lips together.

Sherlock kissed back eagerly, making up for the kisses they hadn't had in a long time. They finally broke apart when their lungs called for air and they looked at each other until John's gaze turned away and his face suddenly turned beat red and he buried his head into Sherlock's shoulder, "I forgot that people are bloody nosy gits" he muttered. Sherlock looked behind him to see all of the people at the crime scene were staring at the 'Sociopath' snogging a random soldier. Sherlock straightened up and grabbed John's hand tightly before picking up John's cane and handing it back to him while muttering softly to John "psychosomatic" and pulling him towards Lestrade, Sally, and Anderson who had joined the two right before the kiss. "Lestrade this is John" Sherlock said, still smiling and with tear stains on his face. Lestrade looked at him before slowly responding "...John? You've never mentioned you were with someone..." he said, still partially in shock, Sherlock and John shared a smile before John turned back to Lestrade, letting go of Sherlock's hand, only for the detective to hold on to his arm, and stuck his hand out to shake the DI's hand, "Captain John Watson-Holmes MD, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, medically discharged, and Sherlock's husband of 6 years" John said smugly as all three of the officers froze, "husband?!" They practically screeched.

Suddenly Sherlock realized something, "medically discharged... wait you need to be injured to be medically discharged and it needs to be serious!" Sherlock practically screamed, John looked down at the ground bashfully, while shuffling his feet, "yah... about two days after our phone call there was a second ambush and some soldiers needed help, so I ran out but a sniper saw me and...." he trailed off a put a hand on his left shoulder. Sherlock turned more pale as John spoke before ripping off John's combat jacket, revealing a bandaged shoulder, everyone still watching looked on in shock, John cleared his throat, "the bullet missed everything important but it did shatter the clavicle so I can't be a surgeon any more..."John looked sad when he said this before continuing, "but i'm here and i'm ok love" he said smiling again while grabbing Sherlock's hand and pulling it off his shoulder. There were some men who looked at John in sympathy while some of the women had tears in their eyes. Donovan looked at John and Sherlock before finally speaking, "Well, now that your back you can keep this one out of trouble, and help stop Sherlock from deducing everything about everyone" she said exasperated, although nobody missed her calling him Sherlock instead of Freak, and everyone also noticed that Sherlock looked surprised before giving her a small smile.

Of course this is where Anderson decided to open his trap. "How could you be married to this man? he's a freak! a psychopath!" the rat-faced man sneered. Lestrade, Sally, and Sherlock looked at him with the disgust, but John's face was pure hatred, his eye's blazing with anger. He let go of Sherlock's hand before walking to stand in front of the man. John smiled, the same smile that everyone in the army knew meant Captain Watson-Holmes was about to unleash hell. John spoke in a calm voice, loud enough that everyone could here but quiet enough that he wasn't yelling. John's voice carried across the crime scene, voice commanding and laced with steel, "That man over there is the best man I know, he saved me so many times that i've lost count, he spends his days solving murders and saving people, for free, because he wants to help, because he is a great man, and a bloody good one too. He saved me from an alcoholic father who used to beat me and my sister, he was my friend and when my father beat me too much on day, Sherlock found me and threw himself in front of my father to save me. So that man that you call a Freak, is the best man i've ever known and I am so bloody lucky that he loves me back". John turns away from the man before hesitating and turning back to face him, and before anyone can react, John pulled Anderson by the shirt and punches him hard in the nose.

No one helps Anderson up,  Sally walks over Anderson's legs before walking to stand in front of Sherlock, "he's a good one, make sure you bring him to the next crime scene, she whispers and winks before walking away towards the police officers, the women are crying and most of the men look disgusted and angry after hearing about John's father and listening to Anderson. Lestrade looks at John, "Anderson's always been clumsy, I can't believe he tripped and landed flat on his face" he says loudly enough so the other officers hear, the gathered officers all nod and go back to there business. "It was very nice to meet you John" Lestrade says before going to walk away, "thank you Greg" Sherlock says softly, Lestrade freezes before smiling to himself and walks away to join Sally.

John turns to look at the receding figure of the bleeding rat-faced man, and then turning back to his husband, Sherlock gazes at him, "ready to go home my soldier?". John stares at his handsome detective, "Oh god yes".